


The Stars, Full of Grace

by AsterRoc



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Astronomy, Gen, Insanity, Outer Space, Physics, Science, Technobabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-02 19:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsterRoc/pseuds/AsterRoc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of character studies as Thor/Avengers-verse characters consider the stars.  You can think of it as five good guys and one bad guy, or five non-Avengers and one Avenger (though that way it’d be out of order).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dr. Jane Foster

**Author's Note:**

> Thor 2 spoilers of course, and the rest of the movieverse. Exit now if you don’t want them. 
> 
> I’ve only seen Thor 2 once, and summaries I’ve found of it don’t contain sufficient details on the parts I want to write about, so I really hope I’m not messing anything up royally…
> 
> These are arranged in roughly reverse chronological order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New headcanon: Dr. Jane Foster’s originally from NYC, that’s why she slapped Loki. 
> 
> _Asterism_ – technically, those connect-the-dots pictures of stars are not constellations, they’re asterisms. “Aster” means stars, and an asterism is just any pattern or picture you can make with a group of stars, such as the Big Dipper, the Great Bear, or the Drinking Gourd. If stars in the sky were like cities on a map, an asterism could be like the lines of highways connecting them. ( _Constellations_ , on the other hand, are actually whole areas of sky, not just the stars but the empty space between them. If stars in the sky were cities on a map, and an asterism was the highways connecting them, then constellations would be states – the borders and all the area within the borders.) 
> 
> This first chapter is partially inspired by <http://darktheoceans.tumblr.com/post/57834931776/the-adventures-of-jane-science>

> The sun is a miasma  
>  Of incandescent plasma  
>  The sun's not simply made out of gas  
>  No, no, no  
>  The sun is a quagmire  
>  It's not made of fire  
>  Forget what you've been told in the past.  
>  \--“Why Does the Sun Really Shine? (The Sun is a Miasma of Incandescent Plasma)”, by They Might Be Giants, <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sLkGSV9WDMA>  
> 

Jane stands on the balcony and looks out over Asgard with wide eyes. The sunlit view of earlier in the day showed her the architecture of this world, but now with the Sun having set an hour previous darkness begins to softly cover the city. The Asgardians of course possess fire, but as with any non-technological society, they conserve their fuel when it is not required, so there are few lamps lit. They also possess magic however, and some areas are lit with colors obviously not of this – no, not of _her_ world.

Above it all though hangs the night sky, and it is nothing like she has ever seen. When she first began visiting New Mexico for her studies, she had been amazed by how clear the night sky was. The Milky Way really did look like a band of clouds in the sky. She had a hard time making out the constellations at first because there were so many other stars besides the brightest five or six in each asterism that she could see from New York. 

But this is way beyond anything she has seen in Puente Antiguo. Above her head the sky dances with lights in a rainbow of colors. It looks as though a child with a box of primary colored crayons tried to draw something combining both the aurora and a star formation nebula. The representative color Hubble images of the Eagle Nebula, dubbed “the Pillars of Creation” by the press, pale beside this demonstration in the sky. But where the Hubble image is static, these curtains of color are ever changing and moving, as do the aurora in the sky of her home planet (as well as Jupiter and Saturn of course). It makes for a beautiful sight, and after smiling for a moment in appreciation, Jane realizes that such a short time scale of variation implies that the physical size scale must be small as well, so the nebula must be closer than she had originally imagined. The display must actually be within Asgard’s solar system at a minimum, or possibly even within its atmosphere. 

Jane pushes that investigation to her to-do list, and turns to examine the stars as well. While the Hubble M16 image has few stars due to their light being blocked by the dust clouds, here the stars shine brightly against their backdrop. White, yellow, red, blue, here she can really see their colors boldly, not the faint impression of color she gets back on Earth, where she never knows for sure whether she actually sees the color, or if it’s just that she knows scientifically it should be there. And green! She’s never seen a green star, she had been under the impression that with the way that the human eye perceived colors, a star whose blackbody peaked in the green would be perceived as white. With a frown she adds this new tidbit to her to-do list as well, and she is considering rearranging its priority order relative to the “aurora Asgardia,” when she has one of those happy moments when two items on her list interact due to their mental proximity. And here, it implies yet more physical proximity: if the stars are shining against the backdrop of the Asgardian lights, that means they are closer than the lights, and yet she had hypothesized the lights were within the solar system. There couldn’t be stars within this solar system – stars are suns of their own, each with its own separate set of planets far away from another solar system. If these “stars” were within Asgard’s solar system, then they couldn’t be stars at all, but would have to be some other source of light. 

Mentally chanting “DOES NOT COMPUTE,” Jane watches the stars for a few moments as the lights shimmer and shift. These certainly look like stars; to be stars they must be further than the lights and therefore are shining through the curtain; that in turn would lead to their brightness changing on an irregular time scale as the sheets of material drift in front of the stars, concealing and revealing their light. As Jane watches though, the brightness of the “stars” remains steady. This disturbs her. It must just be the insufficient ability of the human eye. If these clouds are close, they must be small compared to the distance to the stars, so they’re unlikely to absorb too much of the light from the stars, but if that variation is at a level she cannot distinguish by eye, she will need modern equipment to confirm this hypothesis and determine the composition of the aurora Asgardia, even an amateur telescope as long as it’s equipped with a CCD should be sufficient to detect mild variation of the stars’ brightness over short time scales, though a spectrograph would be useful as well or at least a filter wheel. 

Blinking her eyes, Jane comes back to herself, forcibly pulls herself out of her equations and calculations of exposure times back to the beautiful sight before her. It is truly amazing, and knowing that she will soon be able to study it in more depth, to understand the reason _why_ it is so beautiful, only makes her heart ache with awe at what the cosmos has created, at her ability to stand here on another world, contemplating the astrophysics of its night sky. She cannot tear her eyes from the display across the heavens. She will ask Thor if they can get her telescope in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The astrophysics in this first chapter is accurate, as is Jane's approach to understanding what's going on above her head.


	2. Dr. Erik Selvig

> Stars  
>  In your multitudes  
>  Scarce to be counted  
>  Filling the darkness  
>  With order and light  
>  You are the sentinels  
>  Silent and sure  
>  Keeping watch in the night  
>  Keeping watch in the night  
>  You know your place in the sky  
>  You hold your course and your aim  
>  And each in your season  
>  Returns and returns  
>  And is always the same  
>  And if you fall as Lucifer fell  
>  You fall in flames!  
>  \--“Stars”, from _Les Miserables_ , <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=urxk4mveLCw>

The frequency of occurrences of spontaneous Einstein-Rosen bridges has been increasing monotonically as a function of time. The energy contained in these space-time disturbances is significantly greater than the sum of the false zero-point energy associated with the inflationary solution proposed to cosmological problems such as the lack of magnetic monopoles and other grand unified theory of love freeze-out defects, as well as that of the more recent cosmological constant confirmed by supernova Type Ia observations via the Hubble Space Telescope and proposed by Einstein – it was his biggest mistake you know, and this just goes to show that anyone who makes mistakes can win the Nobel Prize in physics. 

These Einstein-Rosen bridges, or let’s just call them bifrost-Heimdalls or maybe Foster-Selvig-Thor teleportation portals, connect the Nine Realms or the multiverses present in brane theory – as you know, a point is a zero-dimensional brane, a string is a one-dimensional brane, and one of these bi-Foster bridges connects across the nine dimensions known as Asgard, Jotenheim, Elfhammer, and Middle Earth, and a bunch others but Thor never told me what they were called, there’s nine total, all connected to the branches of this ash tree, the whirled tree. 

And when Heimdall opens the bifrost we can see through to the stars of the other worlds, and these worlds are coming together in the convergence, which is what I said earlier when I said they were increasing with time, and it is a monotonic function which doesn’t repeat back on itself in time, but it does seem to have a spatial connection, which I am still investigating because it’s space-time they’re the same thing. But there are spatially weak areas which seem to be connected to the energy of the Earth, which the ancient astronauts understood when they built things like Stonehenge and the Great Pyramid of Giza and the Greenwich Observatory and Jantar Mantar and all these things have cosmic significance as the convergence approaches, and we will need to travel to one of these places and if we can trigger intentional defects we can reduce the uncontrolled energy release by channeling it into deliberate defects, which we can do using my…

Waitasec, this is an umbrella. Where’s my equipment?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where Jane's chapter was actual real astrophysics, Erik's is technobabble. A lot of the words come from real astrophysics (cosmology specifically), but they generally aren't used in an accurate context, and a lot do not come from real cosmo. The quote at the start is also intended to reflect Erik's disordered mind, as it starts off perfectly calm, then transitions into ranting about Lucifer and falling stars - "falling stars" or "shooting stars" are really meteorites in the Earth's atmosphere, while stars are far beyond our own solar system, so when an astrophysicist like Erik compares the two, it shows how beyond the bend he is.


	3. Sif

> Then the traveller in the dark,  
>  Thanks you for your tiny spark,  
>  He could not see which way to go,  
>  If you did not twinkle so.  
>  \--“The Star (Twinkle Twinkle Little Star)”, by Ann and Jane Taylor, 1806, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twinkle_Twinkle_Little_Star#Lyrics 

She stands on a balcony overlooking the courtyard where the others carouse. Always, it is Thor and the Warriors Three, telling of their exploits while the women draped on their arms swoon over them. Once, long ago, there was a time when she tried to make it Thor and the Warriors Four telling of their exploits, but the few men willing to drape themselves over her arm were not the sort she was willing to take up with, and she was not interested in the even fewer women either. She may have been able to force the other warriors to accept her on the battlefield, where her strength could clearly prove her mettle, but in the mead hall her unwillingness to participate means they are able to easily push her aside.

Sif tugs her furs tighter around her neck and looks at the stars hanging above Asgard. It has always intrigued her that Ymir’s old skull should have such patterns on the inside. And yet she trusted that the Allfather had known what he was doing when he and his brothers placed it there, the spots reflecting light from the Sun hiding beneath the ground as Sol waited for the next morning. The gibbous Moon is just rising to the East, and she knows the feasting will go on for hours more. She cannot see its charioteer, Sol’s brother Mani, but Sif smiles up at him for a moment anyway, in silent thanks for continuing his race across the sky. Of course, who wouldn’t run from a wolf as terrible as Hati or Skoll, or their even more terrible father Fenrir, son of – 

But Sif shakes her head to prevent any more dire thoughts from entering, and brings her gaze back down to the ground just as she sees Thor begin to make excuses to his mates and leave the party. She knows why he leaves, and she knows what the Allmother wishes her to say to him. With a sigh, Sif approaches him, not out of the love of a woman for a man that Thor’s mother Frigga wishes she had, but out of the love a warrior has for his boon companions. She does not like to see him in such pain, but there is no way she could ever love one such as he, it would always turn into a competition between them to see who was the stronger. Should he win, she would resent him and need to prove herself the better – while this serves them well upon the battlefield, it would not serve them at all in a bed. Should she win, on the other hand, she would be unable to respect his weakness. No, any partner for the “Lady” Sif would have to be just as strong as herself, but in an entirely different realm. 

Sif slips a mask of friendly concern over her face as she places a gloved hand on Thor’s cloaked shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I think is pretty clear, in my headcanon Sif isn't all forlorn and longing for Thor, she knows perfectly well they'd be a horrible match, and it's just everyone else trying to get them together.


	4. Tony Stark

> A lonely god once told me  
>  To look at the moon  
>  “Look harder,” he had said,  
>  “For it is a beautiful sight to see.”  
>  And truly it was,  
>  For with such a calm intensity,  
>  I could see a golden city  
>  And a bridge that bled every color.  
>  I saw a home somewhere,  
>  Up there beside the moon,  
>  That glowed far brighter  
>  Than the stars themselves.  
>  And for once-  
>  For once-  
>  I didn’t feel so lonely.  
>  \--by letterly, <http://letterly.tumblr.com/post/67871396937/a-lonely-god-once-told-me-to-look-at-the-moon>  
> 

Tony Stark has no poetry in his soul. He has equations and formulae. Theorems and laws. Stress vectors and matrices and tensors. He can calculate exactly how many Joules of energy that nuclear bomb delivered into the Chitauri mothership. With Dr. Banner pointing him to where to read up on the squishy science part, he can calculate the expected increase in cancer rates in New York City caused by the Black Widow’s decision to give him a few more seconds to come back. And while he is immensely grateful for the few extra seconds (Jarvis had shut off the suit’s communications to save power for life support, but Tony knew perfectly well that shutting the gate would have been a death sentence, perhaps worse if any surviving Chitauri had captured him), he is not sure his own life was worth the trade.

The Maria Stark Foundation begins a new branch of philanthropy, supporting the work of cancer researchers at Mount Sinai hospital, without any of that pink ribbon bullshit. It’s not all charity though; considering his own proximity to the blast, he may very well need the results of that work himself soon. 

Tony hung in the darkness of space for a few weightless breaths. Once he passed through the gate gravity shut off, x(t)=0.5at2+v0t+x0, where a=0. The enemy’s gate was up, not down, from Stark Tower, and when he was on the other side of it his own gate was just in the negative x-direction compared to his momentum. The nuke’s thrusters had shut off when it was programmed to strike, and for an endless moment he had been in free fall, coasting forward, x=vt, stars and ships filling his vision, until he blinked back the tears in his eyes and used a last little bit of power to use the suit’s servos to throw the nuke towards the mothership, and conservation of momentum, Δp=0, m1v1=-m2v2, he had simply been lucky the ship was located directly in front of the portal so that his recoil was back towards Earth. If it hadn’t been, he might as well have just used his thrusters and traveled with the nuke to its final destination. 

When it had blossomed the light filled his eyes, blindingly bright through the eye slits, overloading his sensors and displays, washing out the vast emptiness of space, nothing there but himself and the other dead and the cold stars an endless distance away. The lack of sound was deafening, all Tony could hear in his ears was his own breathing. 

It is the sound of his own breathing which he hears now as he gasps awake, bolting upright in bed. His labored breaths fill his ears. His pounding heart shakes his chest, and he takes slow breaths as he reminds himself that the arc reactor’s electromagnetic field is strong enough to save him even if his pounding heart did shift one of the shrapnel pieces. As he calms slightly, Tony realizes that tears are in his eyes, and he does not know whether it is from fear or the memory of the beauty. 

Tony runs a hand through his hair and leaves the bed as silently as he can so as to not disturb Pepper. He walks out onto the balcony where the repair crews she insisted on hiring instead of letting him do the work himself have actually done a decent job of removing all traces of the battle, of the aliens’ presence and the Alien’s presence. 

He leans against the glass and looks down at the lights and noise. Tony is glad he lives in the City, at least for this week. Here he may be reminded of the fight, but that’s not what has him waking in cold sweats when he finally collapses from exhaustion, no longer able to flee the nightmares by burying himself in his work. No, it is the few short moments in another universe, beneath and between other stars that has him curling up into a fetal position and whimpering at random times during the day. And here the neon washes out the blackness of night above: it is never dark enough to see the stars. 

Here he is never alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Tony's got that PTSD going on which came out in Iron Man 3.
> 
> Also, I didn't like how in The Avengers, there's still the same gravity when Iron Man goes through the portal, so I "fixed" that. ;) I mean srsly, he's in another *universe*, why should Earth's gravity just carry through?


	5. Heimdall

> Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;  
>  I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.  
>   
>  What, my boy, you are not weeping? You should save your eyes for sight;  
>  You will need them, mine observer, yet for many another night.  
>   
>  \--Sarah Williams, "The Old Astronomer", [via WikiSource](https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Old_Astronomer)  
> 

Heimdall watches. He sees everything all at the same time. His talent lies not in the seeing, but the comprehending. It is one thing to see everything as does the Allfather as well, but the Allfather must turn his blind eye to most of it so as to not go mad. Heimdall though, he absorbs it all and everything makes sense to him.

He sees Thor approaching him down the broken bridge of the bifrost to where he stands at the edge of the world. It has only been mere months since he was cut off from the mortal, but he returns every day to ask how she fares. Heimdall watches all, though out of respect for Thor he pays less attention to the times she would not wish to be observed, instead watching the passage of the stars, the warp and the weft of her universe’s fabric. 

He sees the mortals on Midgard, where this one mortal woman searches, never ending, for Asgard, for the World Tree, for a way to open the bifrost, for Thor, and where the other woman helps her despite not understanding anything of the work, out of a fierce dedication borne from shared trials. The women are warriors though they know it not, and though many on Asgard would not see it. The one woman, called Lady Jane by Thor, called Jane in her own thoughts, called Dr. Foster by others still, is a general, inspiring others to follow her to the ends of the earth in her quest. The other woman, Darcy Lewis, is a determined soldier, who first followed Jane for mercenary reasons, but now out of a loyalty few of Asgard’s soldiers demonstrate. Their third boon companion, Erik, has left their company for other adventures, and Heimdall sees a cloud around him, black for treachery, green for deceit, and he knows it to be the work of Loki. Even as he falls, that one schemes. And when he returns, it is to enact schemes within schemes, of which Heimdall of course informs the Allfather and his son. 

Time passes and Heimdall watches. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that Heimdall watches all times. Cities rise and fall. Nations rise and fall. Peoples rise and fall. These are no different from others. Even the stars of Midgard rise and fall. The stars of Asgard do not change though, nor the void between the nine realms, where nothing can exist. Heimdall cannot see into that blackness, for even he cannot look into a place that does not exist. He knows Loki falls through that blackness from his fingerprint upon Midgard, but as his touch is light Heimdall pays it little mind. 

Heimdall watches the edge of the void more closely now, for now that he is aware of his blind spot, he must guard against attack from that direction. He knows of few who can slip between the realms unseen, but they must use this dark space to do so, otherwise he would be able to watch them. Instead Heimdall watches the stars at the edges of the nine realms, bordering on that void. If he were an artist he might watch their colors, capture their flow and movement. If he were a scientist he might describe their change with formulae, characterize their elements. But he is not either. He does not record what he sees in any medium of chalked pictures on paper or chalked equations on slate. Heimdall just sees, just watches, and when needed, he acts. 

For now though, there is no need to act. Things are quiet. He watches the stars, and he remembers what he sees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally had a different quote to start this chapter off, but I didn't like it so traded it out for what's there now. Here's what I originally had.
>
>> O little town of Bethlehem  
> How still we see thee lie!  
> Above thy deep and dreamless sleep  
> The silent stars go by;  
> Yet in thy dark streets shineth  
> The everlasting light;  
> The hopes and fears of all the years  
> Are met in thee tonight.  
> \--O Little Town of Bethlehem  
> [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=19rL_8W3oRU (Nat King Cole)](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=19rL_8W3oRU)  
> 
> 
> I also considered versions by [Frank Sinatra](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQKwZRR4mcI) and [Sarah McLachlan](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jyPMDD8fGeA). 


	6. Loki

> “I hold out my hands to the stars, full of grace for those souls who cry. No soul dies when love has spoken. No sin endures when love has wept. If love loses its way here below, its tears will find me and will not be lost.”   
> \--Maurice Maeterlinck (via George Matthew Adams, _The Gettysburg Times_ , 23 June 1934). [Source](http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=2202&dat=19340623&id=RSUmAAAAIBAJ&sjid=If0FAAAAIBAJ&pg=7136,6529783)  
> 

Odin holds Thor’s ankle at waist height. Thor hangs below the bifrost, the broken end of the rainbow bridge, gripping the staff as strongly has he has ever gripped Mjolnir in the heat of a battle. Further below, Loki holds the other end of the staff in a single hand, his fingers only as tight as they need to be to maintain his slight weight against Asgard’s gravity tugging him down to the void, filled with stars where they hang close to the underside of Asgard.

“I could have done it, Father!” Loki declares, looking up hopefully, desperately, into Odin’s stony face, two man-lengths above him. “I could have done it! For you! For all of us…” He trails off, not seeing any response on the Allfather’s blank face. 

And then there it is. A calm, quiet, “No, Loki.”

Loki’s face slowly falls from desperation to despair as the words sink in. 

No, Loki could not have succeeded. 

No, Odin would not have wanted this “gift” from him.

No, Odin would not have wanted this gift from _him_.

No, Loki would not have been doing it for Odin, for Asgard, but only for himself. 

Loki’s hand flexes slightly on the staff. Thor, who always was more perceptive than he had any right to be, who was always perceptive when Loki most had need of tricking him, says “Loki, no.” 

But he does. He lets go. Thor’s scream fades as he falls. 

He falls down, past the ever-cascading ocean. Past the layer of clouds wrapped around the base of Asgard. Into the stars. Into the blackness. 

He falls into the void, into the emptiness, until he no longer has a sense of up and down. Until he is so far from everything that he sees no motion, so that he can no longer tell if he moves at all. Until he is surrounded by blackness and nothing, with no way to mark the passage of time, and he falls, floats for more eons. He could be falling through some dark bottomless well. He could be floating weightless and still. 

Loki has passed through the void between worlds before, but always it has been controlled by his magic. Moving from a known place to another known place, his point of exit and entry carefully measured and moderated. Now, this uncontrolled jump into the emptiness has stranded him, and he has no knowledge of where he is, nor how to return. His magic is useless without a starting point and destination, so he conserves it, wraps it around himself to protect against the cold that slowly grows in his bones. Loki chuckles wryly at that thought – all he need truly do to protect against the cold is return to his true form now that he knows of it, but he will not do that. 

Instead he drifts, cold, through the blackness unbroken by stars, using little wisps of magic to maintain his temperature, to stave off his hunger, to remove his need to breathe. He cannot use the magic to change his experience of time though, and after eons he begins to long for a change, for entertainment. 

Whether his eyes are open or closed, Loki sees no difference. Even when he raises his hands before his face, he can only see them if he draws his magic into his fingertips. He hears no sounds external to himself, and can only hear the sounds he himself makes when he bothers to conjure up a little bit of air for the sound to travel. 

At first Loki thinks of the events of the past few days. Of Thor’s banishment and his ascension to heir. Of convincing Thor to stay on Midgard. Of the Allfather’s sudden collapse into the Odinsleep right upon revealing Loki’s loathed heritage to him. He avoids thinking of the last few minutes, of Odin’s two words before he fell, and Thor’s two words that were a mirrored echo of them. 

Loki projects himself to Midgard to pass the time. He finds the mortal called Dr. Erik Selvig, one of Thor’s little friends, and rides along with him, guiding him into a position that perhaps he can take advantage of once he finds land. Loki finds the mortal Thor is so fond of and watches her for a time, but he does not interfere. He is not sure why he does not, maybe it is that he worries Thor would notice. It cannot be because he does not wish to make good on his threat mere minutes before his fall. But it is no matter, she is not in a good position to be useful as of yet. 

Time passes. 

Loki’s magic begins to fail him. He cannot use it to sustain his body indefinitely if his body is not sustaining his magic. He is unable to sleep in the void, and he feels the fatigue building up in his unused muscles, and when he manages to bring a hand to his face he can feel bags under his eyes. Hunger grows too, but this is because he must conserve his magic for breathing. Loki cannot naturally access the restorative Odinsleep for himself, but as he weakens, he considers how to best use his remaining magic to force himself into such a state. For if he doesn’t, surely his magic will drain away entirely before he finds one of the nine realms. 

Loki’s mind begins to fail him. He loses track of the runes while calculating how to best enter a state of hibernation. Was it Eleph or Het that came seventeenth? Was the circle drawn clockwise or widdershins? Did he need to infuse the energy into the sigils first, or chant them aloud? His mind goes blank as he tries to remember.

.

.

Loki realizes he’s gasping for air, and he hasn’t thought in… some long amount of time. His spell isn’t complete. He needs to focus, before time runs out.

Time passes.

.

And then there are faint hints at differences in the blackness around him. Faint wisps of something, where there had been only nothing for the longest time. Little pinpricks of light, and he knows he is finally nearing his salvation as the stars of another world approach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh poor poor Loki, you don't know the half of it, or you might've preferred to keep falling. 
> 
> Thanks for coming along for this ride!

**Author's Note:**

> My first time posting a multi-chaptered work that's actually complete! I'm gonna roll them out over the next few days, a bit of a Thanksgivukkah gift for anyone still reading over the holiday. :)


End file.
